


Escape to Neverland

by ArtieWiles



Category: Peter Pan & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Coming Out, Cute, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen, Mentor Hook, Mentor/Protégé, One Shot, Queer Character, Queer Themes, Short & Sweet, did I mention sweet?, wendy is gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:07:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26604205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtieWiles/pseuds/ArtieWiles
Summary: Wendy Moira Angela Darling has decided not to grow up. Adulthood with all the duties of a wife is not something she desires. Especially when she can't stand the thought of the child-making process. She will run away to Neverland, and she'll be free.But it's not that simple. The Neverland is different from what she remembered. Actually, everything is different than she remembered. And in order to live her life the way she wanted to, she must first find out who she is. As is the case with every almost-adult out there.Everything is different than it seems. Pirates are not pirates, Wendy has a life crisis, and Petr Pan is more mature than anyone would say. Get ready for a nice, sometimes too sweet one-shot story without a hint of romance and with a good ending :)The English version was not beta'd, so feel free to point out any errors :)
Relationships: Wendy Darling & James Hook
Kudos: 10





	Escape to Neverland

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Útěk do Země Nezemě](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26584633) by [ArtieWiles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtieWiles/pseuds/ArtieWiles). 



Wendy will never grow up. She will never be an adult. She will never marry. She would never have to behave properly and listen to boring old stuck-ups, and she would never have to smile sweetly at them again, even if her shoes hurt.

No. Peter will come for her and take her with him to Neverland. Forever and ever.

John tried to talk her out of it. Adulthood is nice after all. They can do whatever they want. They can go wherever they want. Adults are free!

She smiled at him. Sweetly. And she agreed. She told him he was right and started talking about something else.

He didn't understand it. He really could go where he wanted to and do what he liked. He had already promised a place at the university and in the meantime, he helped at the bank to gain experience. He could spend how much time he wanted to study in the library. If he wanted, he could go to Kuala Lumpur, Sarawak, and Singapore. He could see Cairo and the Caribbean. He would see sunsets from all corners of the empire where the sun never sets. He could have married at forty and still have the respect of others. Or not get married at all. He could decide for himself. At best, she would be just a disgrace to the family and an old virgin. In the worst case, she would end up on the streets.

So she swallowed all the objections and nodded. He wouldn't get it.

He loved her stories about Red Handed Jill, but he had plenty of the thrill for the rest of the life. And now it bored him. He could travel, but he didn't want to. She would have to hope to get married well to be able to do so.

Goosebumps covered her at the thought. To get married was to have children. With a man. She shuddered at the thought of warm, strong, hairy hands on her skin. She quickly put a plaid over her shoulders. Don't think about it. Just don't think about it.

She won't ever grow up. No. She will be free.

And she will do whatever she wants.

Run barefoot in the grass.

Read books for as long as she wants.

Bathe and feel the water currents on her body.

Sail the sea with the wind in her hair.

No laces. No curtsies. No sweet smiles.

And when someone upsets her, she punches him or quarrels with him. No signs and silent suffering of social rules. No. She has had enough.

She's going to Neverland. She's done here.

She was sixteen. Peter still believed she was a child. She was careful to wear braids like a little girl and wear a corset, or to wear only a loose shirt with her breasts tightened with a scarf. No sign of a curve anywhere. She was not an adult, but could no longer be labeled as a child either. Definitely not now that she had her awkward periods of the month. Like any woman. Fortunately, Peter knew nothing about that.

She needs to get to Neverland. And there she will live her life as she wants to live it.

She looked at the bag tucked under the bed. She had everything she needed there. But mainly her books and John's high boots. A solid work skirt, trousers, shirt, coat, and, of course, a spare petticoat, chemise and pair of combinations, a bust bodice, and a sanitary belt with pads. And one nice dress in case of need. She didn't have a hat to fit in Neverland, but it didn't matter. Maybe she'll steal Hook's. The thought cheered her up.

She waited for Peter for several weeks before he finally arrived. She slept every night with the window ajar. Winter was approaching, and she had more and more trouble warming up at night. Her throat felt hoarse in the morning and she just hoped she wouldn't have consumptions. Yet she did not close the window.

When Peter arrived, he almost jumped through the walls with enthusiasm. Eagerly, she pulled her bag from under the bed and buttoned the coat over her shirt. Tinkerbell sprinkled her and her bag with dust, and Wendy remembered the taste of the saltwater and the warmth of the sun on her face and took off.

She left behind a smoky gray London. She looked over her shoulder once. Her house was no longer visible, so she just smiled sadly and flew on. The Neverland was as beautiful and wild as she remembered. A pirate ship was swaying at sea near the shore. White smoke rose from the forest where the Indian camp was, and the waterfall glowed in the distance. Just like last time, she could now see all the seasons in one place. Snow, autumn leaves, and flowers.

The air smelled like green hills, storms, and sun.

She was home.

.xXXx.

She's going nuts. This is not possible. She understands that they want to play house with her as a mom. They are still just little boys who need care and love. But hell, can't they leave her alone for at least five minutes?! Do they have to follow her everywhere, even when she's peeing? And then ask her why she's squatting?

Just so she could wash in peace and undisturbed, she crept to the river sometimes in the middle of the night. After the bath, she sat on a stump on the shore, did her laundry, or walked through the woods. It was the only time she could think. The day was too noisy. She was looking forward to life in Neverland, but this was not what she had imagined. She cooked, tried to clean up, took care of the boys, and tucked them. And she told them fairy tales every night. As soon as she lay down on the bed, she fell asleep.

This was not the freedom she had dreamed of.

She didn't even open a single book.

Peter once planned a pirate assault. Wendy watched the boys' enthusiasm as they prepared for the fight. Slings, eggs, bags of flour, stones, knives, and daggers were carefully inspected.

Wendy took a dagger and a sword. She prepared bandages, a bag of water, and some fruit, nuts, and leftover meat wrapped in leaves in her bag. The boys might have endured not eating for hours and then devouring anything within range in three seconds, but she was hungry all the time.

The attack on the ship was... nice. She had to bite her lip to keep from smiling at the dramatic way in which one pirate grabbed his chest when hit with a slingshot and slid to the ground. Another one's voice and sword shook as he begged little Timmi to have mercy. Timmi threw an egg at him, which splattered on his shoulder. The pirate jerked, the sword fell from his hand and he fell over the railing under the force of the blow.

It was different than she remembered.

Peter fought the captain on the bow. They shouted at each other. Hook laughed and almost seemed to be dancing. There was freedom, wildness, and unforgiving joy.

She took advantage of that and crept into Hook's cabin. Maybe she'll find his spare hat there. With a big feather! There was a mahogany table in the room full of books, maps, and papers. Chest. Cabinet. Globe. Piano. Red carpet and curtains. The big bed Wendy forbade herself to look at. She slept on fur-lined wood, and that wasn't doing it for her. But this bed… Large, soft mattress… No. Definitely not. Her attention caught the open chest full of books peeking out. A hoard of books. She knelt beside it and began to investigate them.

Logbooks. Travelogues. Fiction. Poems. Marco Polo. Byron. Gulliver's Travels, Viking Sagas, Shakespeare, John Mandeville, Ma Huan, and Fei Xia. Karl Baedeker. Dickens. Andersen's fairy tales. Darwin. Burroughs. Henry James. Satirikon. Mary Shelley and her Frankenstein and travelogues. The Picture of Dorian Gray. Death in Venice. Baudelaire, Verlaine, Rimbaud… English, Spanish, French, Latin, Greek, Italian, and other scribbles she did not recognize. Old and brand new books.

This looked really interesting!

She took a book of fairy tales from Andersen and opened it.

"If you looked down to the bottom of my soul, you would understand fully the source of my longing," she read in a whisper, running her finger over the sharp letters. Below that was another quote. "I never dreamed of such happiness as this, while I was an ugly duckling. Thank you, James. I will never forget. Lee."

She took a deep breath and exhaled. Then closed the book and carefully returned it to the others. It wasn't her business.

Instead, she picked up Frankenstein. She was never allowed to read it. It was not suitable for a young girl. Allegedly too rude and scary. But it can't be that bad, can it?

She flipped through the first page. Hmm… the beginning sounded good. Nothing horrid. Who knows how it will go on?

"Well well well, who do we have here? Who dares to rob me, Captain James Hook? That was Pan's plan all along! But there is no one equal to me! Fight me!”

Wendy jolted. Captain Hook stood in the doorway, threatening her with his hook and squinting his eyebrows. His expression resembled the boogeyman. She quickly looked at the passage she read. She was in the middle of such an interesting scene!

"On guard!" Hook urged.

Reluctantly, Wendy rose from the ground, her finger still holding on to where she had ended. She sighed. "Sure, I'm coming. Could I borrow that book after we're done?”

Hook lowered his hand with the hook in surprise. "Borrow a book?"

"Yes. Borrow. This one."

"Hmmm…" Hook smoothed his mustache and inspected her. "What will a pirate like me get out of it?"

If he hadn't rolled his eyes so dramatically and intonate so singingly… It could have been scary. But the director of the father's bank alarmed her more. This little theatre on the other hand...

She smiled and exaggerated. "Oh, Captain, I do not dare to suggest anything. Maybe I could tell you a fairy tale or dust your cabin?”

Hook's corner of the lips twitched. "I have no dust here, Smee!!!"

Wendy bit her lip, trying to keep her face straight.

Smee appeared in the doorway. He was covered with the flour everywhere where he wasn’t wet. He shot a look at Wendy, but that was all that shows he noticed someone else in the room. "Yes, Captain?"

"Do I have dust here?"

Smee looked around the room, then shook his head sharply. "Dust, Captain? No sir, no dust. No dust at all. I cleaned yesterday, Captain."

Hook nodded contentedly. "Thank you, you can go." He looked at Wendy and walked slowly to the table and sat down in his chair. He crossed his legs and laid his hat on the table. All the time watching her in silence.

Wendy swallowed.

"As you can see, young lady, I have no dust here. What else can you offer?”

She cleared her throat. "I can tell you a fairy tale."

He tilted his head. "And what were you reading?"

"Frankenstein, Captain."

He smiled and leaned back more comfortably. He closed his eyes. "Good. Read. I'm listening, Miss Wendy."

Wendy started. She read and read until she reached the end of the chapter. Hook was half sitting, half lying in a chair, and he seemed to be asleep.

The silence was disrupted only by the muffled bustle of the crew. Wendy got up quietly and returned the book to the chest.

"Won't you borrow it?"

She turned. "And could I?"

Hook nodded. "Only if you promise to return it in its perfect condition."

She hesitated, then shook her head. "It probably won't happen. The boys are wild and it would be too dangerous."

Hook stretched and examined her. "Why did you come back, Miss Wendy?"

"Why are you calling me that?" She asked him.

"Because I'm well mannered. Or do you prefer Miss Darling?”

She shook her head.

"When did you get back?"

She forced herself not to look away. "It's been a few weeks."

"Weeks?"

"Yes.

"And why? What is there to do in Neverland?”

She shifted over. Hook noticed and pointed her to the settee by the wall. Wendy nodded her thanks and sat down.

"Well?"

"I missed it here," she said honestly

"I see. I see. Peter Pan is a truly charming young man. Indeed."

Wendy looked at him. Is he serious? Peter was aloud boy and he was definitely not charming!

"Well, don't look at me like that. I remember you and Pan very well. And your… thimble.”

She let the smirk show this time. "It was a good story," she said at last.

"Story?"

"Story. Everything you do with Peter is a story. Picking up strawberries? Story. Fighting pirates? Story. It's all a story that's happening here and now. And the beautiful thing is that it may not be true because that's what the best story is. Thimble? Just a breathtaking end to an adventurous story. It fit in there. And it worked."

"And does he know it's just a story? The first kiss is a big deal."

"That would be if… But it doesn't matter…"

Hook didn't seem to agree.

"It was just a thimble, just the end of the story," she repeated. "The story always ends with a kiss between the prince and the princess. It was necessary.” She waved when she saw his expression. "Leave it alone. No one has ever understood that. But it does not matter. I'm just different."

He was silent, watching her, then he said, "And what's your story, Wendy?"

She swallowed.

He got up and poured himself a glass of wine. He looked at her and poured a second one. Then he took a jug of water and diluted the wine for both of them. He handed one to her and motioned to her before he drank. "Your story, Wendy. I'd love to hear it."

"It's long," she said after a while.

He smiled, and forget-me-not blue eyes sparkled. "In that case, I'll make myself comfortable." He unscrewed the hook, laid it on the table, and took off his coat. He reached through the opening of the shirt to his right shoulder, and something clicked. Then he reached deeper into his sleeve and tugged on something and clicked something again. He shook his shoulder and slipped something of it. He grabbed the hook attachment and pulled. The extension along with leather stripes and straps followed. He put everything on the table. His sleeve fluttered strangely now. Hook sat up and rubbed his shortened arm through his sleeve. "I'm listening."

Wendy took a breath, smoothed her hair, and slowly started.

She told the story of a girl who secretly embroidered knights' emblems and pirate flags into old handkerchiefs at night. Who read the brothers' books and who managed to get the right to play with them in the safety of the nursery. Who was a bad influence on her girlfriends and often got into trouble because of it. Who was terrified of the day when she would have to dance and smile and never say what she thought. And who will have to get married one day.

She shared the story of a lassie who learned to fly and for the first time in her life could do what she wanted. Who ran barefoot and fought pirates. Whose heart bounced and breath hitched every time she saw the mermaid. Who gave someone a hidden kiss and who at that moment understood that even that was just a fairy tale.

And she confided in the story of a young lady who anxiously guarded before the glances and comments of those around her. Who will never be the exemplary noble lady. Who will never be happy next to a man. Who woke up at night drenched in sweat from the nightmares of her wedding day and night. And who decided to leave her life and return to where she was once truly herself.

But who found out that it was just a fairy tale too. And who was caught by a terrible pirate in his cabin while trying to steal his hat.

Hook listened intently. When she ran out of diluted wine, he refilled it. He was silent, never interrupting. Only occasionally did he grunt in the agreement or look sour when the story asked for it.

He was a good listener. She told him things she didn't even dare write in her diary. Didn't even whisper to her closest girlfriend. The fears she had about the future were not waved away by Captain as were by John. On the contrary, he looked compassionate and understanding.

When she finished, he thanked her for the story. And he let her sit. He asked a few more questions, but Wendy didn't think he was harassing her or judging. She answered him truthfully, as best as she could. She felt that there was nothing she could not tell him and that would condemn her in his eyes.

They talked late into the night. Wendy was in no hurry to return. Finally, after such a long time, someone took her seriously and actually saw her. Her. Not Miss Wendy Moira Angela Darling. Not Wendy, a crazy sister and a friend with too much imagination. Not Bloody Jill. Not Wendy the play mom. But her. Even though she didn't know who she was, he saw her.

They talked about travel, literature, life. When she tried to defend her opinion or explain what she meant, he listened. When he disagreed, he didn't tell her she was stupid, but he explained to her how he saw it. It was so... adult-like. When she explained to him with the lump in her throat why she didn't want to get married, he handed her a handkerchief.

And he shouldn't have done that. Because she sobbed for another half an hour and cried with the ugliest and snottiest crying that existed. It couldn't be stopped. She tried to apologize to him, but he just handed her wine, a clean handkerchief, and he continued to sit there, listening to her most secret fears coming from her between the sobs.

She fell asleep soon after.

She woke up on the settee. She was covered with a blanket sewn from multicolored pieces of fabric. The bust bodice nudged her, and when she moved, her stiff back ached. She heard the splashing of waves and the creaking of ropes. Otherwise, there was complete silence. The cabin was dim. Hook slept with his back to her on the bed. She walked over to the window and looked out. Everything was gray. It was as if the night sucked all the colors out of the world. Her bare feet and the tip of her nose felt chilly. She went outside with a blanket slung over her shoulders. Everything was asleep. Even the wind was mild, perhaps in the effort not to disturb anyone. She stood at the railing and watched the horizon. Her feet prickled with cold dampness yet she didn't move.

She talked to Captain James Hook, and it was the most natural and best conversation of her life. She learned a lot about herself. But as the captain said, it would be some time before she gets to know herself. She doesn't have to hurry but can't hide from life either. There is nothing wrong. There is nothing wrong with her and there are people like her all over the world. Just to find them.

The birds began to sing. The sun was rising behind her. The land of Neverland gradually bathed in warm golden light, and rich and vivid colors returned to everything. The sea was three tones darker than the azure sky on which the clouds floated. The tops of the waves shimmered white, and her back slowly began to warm by the sun rays. She took a breath and smiled. Salty air. She loosened her hair and shook her head. Wind in the hair.

She did it. She fulfilled her dream.

This was her Neverland.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Smee asked her.

She looked at him in surprise. "Yes. It is."

He leaned against the railing and watched the water. "Will you stay for breakfast, Miss?"

She took a breath. She would love to, but she should come back…

Smee noticed her hesitation. He smiled. "If Peter is planning a rescue mission to get you out of our horrible pirate clutches, no one on the ship will be angry. It encourages the spirit of the crew. We don't leave until the day after tomorrow and the bored crew is the worst."

"Where are you going?"

He shrugged. “Beirut, Singapore, Benghazi, Kolkata, New Orleans, Dar es Salaam, Ho Chi Minh City, Lisbon, Trieste, or Liverpool. One of them. The journey from Neverland takes the same time anywhere. It's just a matter of what trade or treaty Captain chooses."

"That sounds amazing."

He nodded. "If it wouldn't sound, why do it? Why be a sailor and not an accountant?”

She smiled. "You're right. And didn't you meant to say a pirate?"

He looked at her. "A pirate sounds better, doesn't it?"

"In the Neverland? Certainly."

He laughed. "Very well, Miss. I'm going to make breakfast.” He looked at his pocket watch. "The Captain will be awake. Would you like to have breakfast onboard or in the cabin?”

"If possible, onboard, please."

"Sure. I'll let the Captain know. Will you want to refresh yourself and change?”

"I have nothing to change."

"We'll find you something. Please come with me, miss."

She obeyed. He led her to a small room with lots of chests. He let her rake through them and went for the hot sink and towel. When he returned with both plus her boots, she had already chosen a simple green skirt and shirt, which looked truly pirate-like. She didn't want to wear someone else's pants, even if they were clean. But she found a chemise. Patched but clean. And stockings! There were stockings too! Wonderful.

She locked the door and quickly undressed and washed. She put on her chemise, pair of combinations, and rubbed the sore spots from sleeping in her bodice. She stretched thoroughly before dressing him again. Her back cracked and she the tension in them finally left. She pulled on her stockings and tied the laces of suspenders above her knees. She put on boots, then a bodice, petticoat, and finally a pirate shirt and a green skirt. She braided her hair and looked down at herself. Even though she didn't have a mirror, she felt good.

Wendy folded her old dirty clothes and left them next to the sink. She went aboard and reached the bow, where the captain was already sitting at a table set for two. Along the way, she was cheerfully greeted by the crew, who either took care of the ship or had breakfast. Suddenly she became nervous.

"Good morning," Hook greeted her with a smile.

"Good morning." She sat down and looked at the table. Tea. Coffee. Bread. Butter. Eggs. Jams and fruit. "It looks beautiful."

"Yes, Smee is the best valet I've ever had."

She smiled. "He's really excellent. I wanted to apologize for falling asleep. It was not appropriate."

He waved a wooden hand. "You had a busy day. If I didn't let you rest, that would be inappropriate."

She nodded and poured herself a cup of tea. "And thank you for listening. It means a lot to me."

"Everyone needs to have someone to talk to. It was a small thing.” He pulled the soft-boiled egg in a cup toward him and tapped it on the top with a spoon. Then, he held the egg in the cup with the thumb and, with an experienced movement, dug the edge of the spoon into the cracked egg and then cut off the entire top. He salted the exposed yolk and started eating.

Wendy realized she was staring, and quickly looked away. She took one of the buttered slices of bread and smeared it with marmalade.

"What are your plans?" Hook asked her.

She shrugged. "I don't know. I'll go back, I'll probably cook. I'll be with the boys. Maybe I'll take them to a river or lake to swim. "

He raised an eyebrow. "Do you want to outwit them to good hygiene?"

She smiled. "Maybe."

"But you don't sound very excited."

She shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I've already chosen it."

"And can you do the same thing every day for another ten, twenty, thirty years?"

She looked away. "What else can I do?"

"Go home. Or join my crew. You will find your home somewhere in the world. In the meantime, work for me. You will see the world. You will gain experience and meet new people. I can introduce you to a lot of interesting folks. You could learn a lot from them. And maybe stay. I have two girlfriends who live together in Melbourne. You could talk to them."

She agreed. He didn't have to persuade her for long. She was about to leave when the boys and Peter rushed in to save her. Captain Hook made a big noise. He complained that she was forcing his pirates to clean up, and begged Pan to take her away. With a great cheer, the boys brought her into their hideout.

She told Peter in the afternoon that she was leaving. She expected him to be upset, to scream, and to swear. But she had no idea that Peter Pan was much more sensible and receptive than he let show. He told her she would be a great pirate and that he was looking forward to their epic fights, which would be talked about for years to come. The boys took it much worse. But Peter told them that everyone had a great adventure ahead of them, and Wendy had to go her own way.

And so she set off. She saw the world. She met new people. She got to know herself. It was a great adventure and an even bigger journey. The crew became her family. Everyone on board had their own story, their own path. Most of the crew used to be Lost Boys, who decided to grow up. From time to time someone left and began to live a new, different life. They always celebrated and always promised to see each other again.

She learned about people and their colorful varieties. No matter how insecure she felt in front of someone new, they always turned out to be as human as her. With their dreams and nightmares. It wasn't long before she joked with everyone, exchanged stories, or talked late into the night under the starlight. She still spend sunrises and sunsets watching the sea with a wind ruffling her hair.

One day they came across two siblings in Trest who were trying to find a place on any ship to take them away and give them some food. James talked to them and took them aboard. They brought them to New Orleans, where James knew a fabric manufacturer. The apprentices were useful to him, and both kids wanted to learn a craft. Something similar happened several more times. They met lost, abandoned, or fleeing children and found them a place in the world. When they were older, they stayed on the ship or went to work or study somewhere. At other times, when they needed the carefree and healing power of the Neverland, the crew handed them over to Peter.

It was a good life. Wendy gradually grew older and grew upr. But she didn't mind this time.

James taught her how to navigate the ship and the basics of the business. She still knew French from school, but thanks to the crew, she really began to speak and learned Spanish as well. She was able to negotiate very good prices. Not as good as James was, but better than the average London merchant paid. She often visited Marry and Annie in Melbourne. Every time she left them, she felt a special kind of calm and hope.

She had a new name she chose. Wendy Jill. No Darling, no Hook. But Jill. A name that had fascinated her since childhood, but a little different this time. Her way. Some sailors called her Missis Windy Jill. It suited herher. She liked it.

She wrote letters home. She sent a letter to the family from almost every port she was in. Writing the first one was the hardest. Saying sorry she run away. Apologizing for causing them trouble. And trying to explain to them why she left. She had never been anywhere long enough to get an answer. But the uncertainty was better. She preferred to hold on to the vain hope that her family would sometimes forgive or even accept her than to read about her disinheritance in lines full of anger and resistance. In each letter, she emphasized how happy or healthy she was and what she had learned. What she saw. Sometimes she even sent gift packages.

She never knew if the family had received or accepted either letters or gifts.

But it was better not to know.

When they were in London, she came to her old house. It looked the way she remembered. Only the doors were painted. She never had the courage to knock and go inside. On the way back to the ship, she tossed another letter into the red mailbox.

Anchored in Port Swettenham. She oversaw the loading of crates and bags of rubber, spices, and tea. A large hat protected her face from the bright sun. James was buying jewelry and fabrics. He understood what people wanted more than she did. And he always chose those for which the merchants in the cities almost did tear their hands for.

"Wendy?!" someone shouted.

She turned.

She couldn't believe her eyes. "John?"

Her brother hurried to her and hugged her tightly.

"John! What are you doing here?”

"I? We needed supplies. But you! After all this time, I found you. You were gone!”

Bill, who was carrying a bag of tea, whistled, and she automatically flipped two fingers at him.

She pulled away slowly. Her heart pounded. "I wrote you letters. Didn't you get them?”

"We did." He examined her closely.

She ruffled her hair chopped just under her ears as was the newest fashion and straightened her hat.

"Is everything you wrote true?"

She swallowed. "Yes, John. It is."

"Okay." He hugged her tight again and whispered, "Okay."

He pulled away and smiled at her. "You have to tell me everything. And I have some news too."

Tears welled in her eyes and she smiled at him. "I will. What about tonight?”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is my first fic translated to English. Please, let me know what you think :) I enjoy conversations with my readers!


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